Unmasked
by Rumielf
Summary: Christine wakes to the voice of her Angel in a strange place...and finds a strange sight A man with a mask.


**_A/N: This was a story I wrote over 10 years ago and I happened to remember was on my old website. I present it now to you in it's original unedited form. One of my first Phan Phictions, this is set during the moments that Christine first unmasks Erik. I had originally intended to continue it. Perhaps after reviving it here I may. I own nothing regarding Phantom of the Opera. Only my own interpretation of what happened. Enjoy. :)_**

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When I woke, I was lying on a large bed in an unfamiliar room. Music, soft and flowing, drifted into my ear from an adjoining room and I stretched and yawned. My memories of the previous night were fuzzy on details. Images went through my mind, and I tried to comprehend them: a lake, mist, candles, a man. Then I remembered one more, my angel's voice!

"But...how?" I whispered aloud. Slowly I sat up and looked around for the first time. It was obviously a lady's room. The wardrobe was open and I could see dresses, cloaks and hats neatly arranged inside. There was even a small writing desk that sat along one wall. I pushed off the thin blanket that covered me and slid off the bed. Melodies still came from the other room and I walked to the door and opened it quietly.

My eyes were greeted with an amazing sight. I was staring at a large pipe organ. Large wasn't even enough of a word to describe it. The instrument was of such proportions that it covered an entire wall of this chamber! Seated at the keyboard, in the center of all of this was a man with his back turned toward me. His absorption in the music must have been great, for he did not hear me footsteps creeping closer.

At one point in my slow trek to him, his head turned slightly in my direction. He still seemed unaware of my presence and so I was able to steal a glance at his face before he turned away again. It was covered on one side by a dazzlingly white mask. That gave me pause as I wondered why an angel must hide his face. It seemed quite odd to me. For some reason my mind still refused to believe that my angel was only a man and I felt this need to see what lay beneath it. I felt this urge to prove to my senses that he was of such beauty that he had to hide it, lest any mortal be struck dumb.

Carefully I strode toward him and still this man or angel ignored me. When I stood directly behind him, I reached out and grabbed the mask. Without hesitation I tore it off. He spun around, fury blazing in those mismatched eyes and I felt my world crumbling in that instant.

My God, will I ever be able to describe that horror that now stood before me, to another living soul? Never, even if I were to live forever could I forget what I saw in those next moments. I had never seen a dead body before, much less a rotting corpse. But now one stood in front of me, close enough to touch me. Time seemed to freeze for an eternity and I had ample time to imprint those features in my mind: sunken cheeks that showed me his cheekbones quite clearly, eyes that seemed to see right through me; twisted, malformed lips that seemed more horrible now that they were open in a frozen scream of rage. But that was not the worst of it.

On the right side of his face, the part that must have normally been covered by the mask, there was a large chunk of skin just missing. Almost as if there had not been enough skin to cover his body, and yet too much brain. The skull showed clearly through and the surrounding flesh was red, raw, like a fresh wound it gaped at me, seemed to grow in my mind. Yet, the strange thing was that I was not as frightened by this physical deformity as I was of the bloodlust, and utter hatred in his eyes.

Slowly time began to flow again and I observed, as if underwater, his thin, skeletal hands reaching out and grabbing my shoulders. I felt those pointed fingers tearing through the light material of my dressing gown and into my flesh. Then my mind caught up with reality as she shook me violently, screaming like the monster that he appeared to be.

"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you, Christine!"

With strength born of fear I broke away from that grasp, not caring as his fingers ripped through my skin, drawing blood. Those eyes, I knew that I had to get away from those eyes or he would kill me. Turning, I ran back toward the other room. But as soon as I looked I discovered that I could not find the door. I ran to the wall and beat my fists upon it in a frenzy, hoping to escape the nightmare, the beast come to life. For I not only feared the rage that poured out, I feared the utter sadness that showed itself to me.

Suddenly he was behind me and I whirled around, my eyes searching for a way out, a means of escape. But his form quickly moved against mine and pinned me easily against the wall. My ears were filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and whispered curses.

"Why? Christine, why? Damn..." That voice, even now was beautiful and it reminded me that this man had been my angel. No, had pretended to be my angel. Angered beyond terror I beat my fists upon his chest, incensed at his deception, at my ignorance, and at those eyes.

"How could you?" I screamed in his face, my anger growing. "You are no angel! You tricked me, you bastard! You lied to me!" never had I felt such rage and I used it to lash out and strike him with my words. "Why did you do this? Why did you bring me here? Don't you have morals? You deceived me!!" Then I was in tears. Sadness overwhelmed me and took the place of my anger. I watched my tears fall and splatter on the arm of his black silk robe. "I believed in you, I trusted you! I gave you my soul, my heart, and still you lied." My body sagged against the wall, my legs no longer able to support me and he caught be quickly.

Still sobbing, I allowed him to carry me to the couch. Not that I had the energy to stop him. Never had I felt such betrayal. His horrid face was nothing compared to the knife twisting in my heart. I had loved my angel, loved him with all of my heart. And now I found out that there was no angel, just a man. A man who had lied to me for some unknown purpose. It seemed forever until I had cried myself out and my eyes finally dried. I became aware that he was looking at me with a mixture of sadness...and of all things...love! Tearing my eyes from his I realized that he had replaced the mask.

The change from that irrational monster to the majestic ominous man who stood before me was incredible. Amazing how quickly my fear dried up and with it my anger and sadness. I never was able to figure out how my mind switched gears so suddenly. As if I was a different woman, I looked him over, with a critical eye. He seemed every inch a man. The mask did nothing to detract from his appearance. Instead it seemed to enhance the, I blushed as I thought, sensuality that surrounded him.

He was standing and when I had composed myself enough to meet his gaze again, he bowed low. "I am Erik, "he said simply. But there was nothing simple about the way that my mind and body reacted to his voice. Feelings that I had never experienced before coursed through my body, taking away my breath and causing me to flush again. It was undeniable now. This man, Erik, was still my angel. And yet, he was not. I bowed my head trying to hide my reaction. No longer could I find any bit of anger in me, nor was there any trace of horror. But still I could not bring myself to look at him again, not yet. I couldn't bear the thought that he might think me indecent. And I certainly felt that way from the thoughts and feelings inside me.

I believe Erik mistook my lowered head for disgust and fear, for he moved away. And when he had crossed the room he spoke again. "Christine, it is true that I deceived you. For that I ask that you forgive my error. I never meant to harm you, child."

"Why?" The question was out before I could curb my tongue. A long moment of silence stretched between us before he answered.

"For a noble reason, or so I believed. I fell quite in love with...," he paused, "your voice." I knew that he was lying but I didn't think much about it at the time. "You have a lovely voice, my dear, yet you needed some training. I have provided that." Then hope entered those eyes that I seemed unable to escape from. "I still could, if that is your wish."

My mind spun with those words. He could still be my teacher if I so desired. Before he had come I had only been mediocre, since his lessons I could feel the music always growing better each time that I sang. Yet, for a moment I contemplated saying no. I did not know how long I could hold out against that voice. But common sense reminded me of something. My voice was my one skill. My one ability to live upon. Besides, I could forgive his deception if he could forgive my initial reaction.

Slowly I nodded my head. "Yes, I would like that, Ang--...Erik."


End file.
